I'll Be The Darkness, If You'll Be My Sunshine
by AmieSombre
Summary: Set at the beginning of the 5th book, Harry is sick of his relatives abuse, and runs away. But who will find him when he's at his most vulnerable? Slash Voldemort/Harry, Rated M for language and explicit material.
1. Going mental

"So hungry… can't stand this.."

These were the words Harry Potter chanted over and over in his head as he laid on his lousy excuse for a bed, underneath the stairs at his aunt and uncles house. It was the fourth summer he had stayed here since he first started school at Hogwarts. He had pleaded and begged Dumbledore to let him stay at Hogwarts for the summer, or at the Weasely's or hell he'd even stay with Professor Snape for the summer if it meant he didn't have to go back to this hell hole.

But the Headmaster had told him what he always had "Harry, I know it's hard, but it's for your protection….you'll understand when the time comes."

_"The bastard_.."

If only Harry had the courage to tell Dumbledore why he really didn't want to come back, but it made Harry feel weak, and embarrassed. . The Dursely's seemed to hate every fiber of Harry, and they weren't afraid to show it. His uncle beat the living shit out of him every time he lost his temper (Which was apparently a lot) His favorite team lost, he'd had a bad day at work, whatever the reason was, Harry was his favorite stress-reliever. Not only that but apparently "freaks" didn't require food, he couldn't even remember the last time he ate anything decent. He'd only get random leftovers if his aunt snuck them in while his uncle was out, which wasn't often. He guessed she must have felt a little sorry for him, but not enough to do anything else about it. They even took the liberty of throwing out all of his belonging and sticking him back in the cupboard underneath the stairs again, thank god he let Hedwig go when he got off the train, he still worried about her though.

All things considered, Harry Potter was miserable. He couldn't even sleep because every time he managed to close his eyes he saw the same thing over and over, A flash of blinding green light, and Cedric Diggory's handsome features, with an expression of fear and confusion that would be plastered on his face forever..

Yes, Harry Potter, the savior of the world, lay there in the dark, broken and bleeding, not even knowing what time of day it was.

_"I have to get out.."_

_"So fucking hungry… I'm gonna die here if this keeps up.._"

He groaned and turned over on his side with tears in his eyes. If the lights were on, one could see a 14 year old boy, covered in dried and fresh blood and bruises, with an expression of utmost defeat in his eyes.

Suddenly those eyes filled with rage. No. With absolute fury...

_"How could they do this to me…Every single one of 'em have left me here to die_…"

Harry jerked himself into a sitting position and practically fainted with the lightheaded feeling he got from it, but he ignored that. The fury in his eyes turned the innocent looking boy into someone who looked ready to kill. He turned his death glare at the door and all of a sudden there was a bang and it burst into flames. Harry was not anymore than a foot away from it because of the small space, and his baggy t-shirt caught on fire. He frantically patted it out with his hands and practically ripped the shirt off of him. The door was burning so fast, and was practically demolished in a matter of minutes

_"God, it's so hot! I'm fucking burning alive in here! I've got to get out!"_ Harry thought as he was backed against the back wall of his cupboard gasping for breath.

Harry took is bare foot and slammed it against the nearly demolished door. He jumped out into the hallway and stared down at the pile of ashes on the flood. "I did it.. im out" he said in a small voice that was barely audible..

He ignored the small burns on his chest and coughed for a few minutes to clear the smoke out of his lungs. After his head stopped spinning he took in his surroundings. "_Dursley's must be gone, or they'd be here by now…."_

His mind wasn't working to well, but his body was, and it needed nourishment… his legs took him to the kitchen and yanked open the fridge door and hastily ate and drank what he could. He didn't care what the Dursleys would do to him. He didn't plan on being there when they returned anyway. After he had eaten and drank his fill he walked through the empty house and out into the front yard. It was night time and everything was dark except for the light of the streetlamps. He didn't bother with clothes or shoes, he didn't even bother bandaging any burns or wounds. He only wanted out.

With a stoic expression on his young and battered features, Harry Potter walked out into the night and did not stop.


	2. Information

It was a small house that looked like it belonged to an insane old man.. because it did.

Albus Dumbledore sat at his small desk in the corner of his living room. It was decorated in deep reds and browns, and every square inch of it held something very peculiar. Odd trinkets, small cages with its contents growling. Miniature caldrons everywhere, bubbling with deep crimson contents….. The old man in question appeared to be deep in thought.

"_Maybe Harry would have been safer if he lived with me… no.. no.. he needs to live a normal life. With family. Maybe they don't like him that much, but they'll give him the character and discipline a growing young boy needs. Plus the protection of his mother….But still… are they treating him too harshly?"_

The words that his Order member Tonks had told him after her first shift of watching the boy echoed through his mind..

"They treat him like shit, Albus! They punish him way too much, and deprive him of food! Hell how am I supposed to know if the boy is even okay if he's stuck in that cupboard 27/7? Let him come to the headquarters for god's sake, Albus!"

"_Maybe I should take Tonks advice. It's been nearly 3 weeks anyway.. Then it's settled! I shall call on volunteers from the order to retrieve the boy tomorrow at the meeting." _

With a long sigh, Dumbledore sipped some of his nearly cold earl grey tea, and got up to retrieve his pensieve…

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It was the kind of place you'd see in a very old horror movie. It was dark and damp, a castle that looked centuries old, built in a Victorian style so it didn't even matter how old it was, it was still hauntingly beautiful... A deep and dark forest was grown all around it. If one looked closely they could see that the forest's edge looked distorted and blurring, as if one were looking at it through a foggy mirror. All in all this place could make anyone shudder in fear...

Through the giant metal doors, up the ancient and beautiful stairs to the second floor. Down the hall to a large room. In front of a fireplace that was burning without firewood. Sat a man in a long dark cloak.

His cloak was some kind of strange silky material. His eyes were deep crimson, as if his tears were made of blood. His skin was pale and smooth, and his face was dark and mysterious as it was covered by his dark hood. If any normal person looked at him they'd guess his age around 40, but anyone in the wizarding world knew him to be much older. He sat there staring at the flames looking to be deep in thought, and somewhat angry.

Just then, the door to the room cracked open a few inches, and a huge snake slithered in. It was long and green and its eyes were the same color of its masters. Its fangs stuck out, abnormally long and something about it just looked evil. It slithered its way up the arm of the chair and stopped right in front of the red-eyed man, and spoke in a strange language.. "Massster.."

"Yes my preciousss Nagini?" The man spoke in the same strange language, not bothering to turn his head towards the creature.

"Some followers are here. They wish to ssspeak with you."

"Very well my sssweet, are they coming to me?"

"Yess massster, they are almost up the sstairs.."

"Thank you my dear, my temper has heightened today, sso you might get to feed tonight"

"thank you massster." The snake finished, bowing its elegant and venomous head, and then curling up under the chair.

A couple minutes later there could be heard footsteps outside in the hall. When they stopped there was a light hesitant rapping at the hard oak door to the room, as if the person knocking was scared shitless to even be there.

"Enter.." Came the dark and haunting voice of the man.

Two men entered, both wearing long black cloaks, their faces hidden by black hoods. They both in unison dropped to their knees by the chair, bowing their heads low.

"Why have you bothered me tonight." Said the red-eyed man, still staring at the blue flames in the fireplace.

"My lord." Said the first man. "We have information… While keeping watch on Little Whinging, we discovered two wizards talking. With our invisibility enchantments they did not notice our presence. We eavesdropped on their conversation, and it seems that they were followers of Dumbledore that were watching over Harry Potter at the muggle house. He has gone missing because one of them was late for their shift. Harry Potter is nowhere to be found apparently. We were about to capture them, but they apparated before we could do so. I believe they had the intent of informing Dumbledore about the boys disappearance. We were going to search for him, but I thought it would be a better course of action to inform you of it first, my lord."The man's voice cracked at the last word he uttered, giving away his nerves. He bowed his head again and waited for a response.

The man in the chair's eyes were flashing with an unknown gleam. His goal since he gained his body back was to get to Harry Potter. He had spent every resource he had on finding the exact location of the boy, and had ordered his followers to keep watch on him 24/7. Although it was hard, because they couldn't get any farther to the boy than the outskirts of his small little town. Dumbledore had made sure of that.

"_Extraordinary. How could the boy go missing so easily? Dumbledore must keep better wards than that. Maybe the boy has been captured by a third party? Or what if he has simple just run off? Whatever the reason I must find him!"_

"Find him and bring him here. Tell the others to do the same, and be quiet about it. " he said, finally.

The two men walked rather fast out of the room.

The Red-eyed man got up as well and disappeared with a *crack*

END OF CHAPTER 2

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Yo what up, the more reviews I get (whether they be bad or good) the faster I'll update.

–The Author


	3. Pain

"_Ouch….ouch…ouch.." _is what Harry Potter said every time he stepped on a particularly sharp rock. He had been running as fast as he could since he left the Dursley's house, and since he was now on the outskirts of his little town and didn't recognize where the hell he was he decided to stop his frantic running and walk. The minute he stopped, the pain in his feet became extremely apparent. He scrunched up his face in agony and didn't look down. Maybe because he was scared he would be leaving behind bloody footprints.

"Why didn't I put shoes on?..bloddy hell!" He said in a hoarse voice that broke the still silence.

He had been out of the neighborhood area for some time, and was now walking though some trees that he assumed was the beginning of some kind of park, but he didn't know, he had never been there before.

"_I can't go on like this.." _

He cursed as he suddenly collapsed by a huge tree..

He curled up on the hard earth out of exhaustion.. His face tilted up to the dark sky which was speckled with stars, he closed his eyes softly, and dozed for just a brief moment.

…

_.._

_._

Harry Potter woke up a few minutes later to the sound of muffled voices. They sounded like they were far away, and after a couple minutes of listening he could tell they were getting louder.

"_Oh shit! How could I be so stupid…? Dumbledore obviously had some type of ward around the house that would inform him if I left!"_

He cursed again as he attempted to get on his feet, which he regretted immediately because feeling the pain on the bottom of his feet made him collapse again. "Ouch!" he said without thinking.. The voices stopped, and he could hear feet pounding against the ground in his direction.

"_Oh shit! They're going to make me go back to the Dursley's! I can't go back..no..no..noo I can't go back.. I gotta get away…"_

He jumped up again, this time ignoring the pain, and sprinted desperately into the woods. He ran until he could no longer make out the road, or anything but the dark and cold forest. He ran with no other thought than that of getting away. He ran with so much pain in his feet that he didn't even comprehend the growing pain in his scar. A pain, that with every step he took, was getting stronger… and Stronger…and stronger…

After a few minutes he slowed down to a steady jog as he looked behind him to see if he had any followers. The second he turned his head back in front, was the very second he ran into something. Stumbling to the ground, and looking up in utter shock, he managed to make out a tall dark figure in sweeping black robes. The gears in his head suddenly stopped and it took him 3 or 4 seconds to come to any sort of realization.

"_Oh no…" _He gasped in sudden agony as the pain in his scare heightened to unbelievable levels.

"Harry…Potter…" The tall man said in a dangerous voice that was barely a whisper. He looked down at the young boy, with a strange gleam in his eyes.

"Y-you.." was all Harry managed to choke out.

For he knew who this man was. This was Lord Voldemort. The man so dark and so dangerous that people were scared to even say his name. The man responsible for so many deaths. The man who killed his parents, and Cedric. The man who he saw come out of that giant caldron just last year…..

Harry Potter might be brave, but right now he was trembling with a fear he rarely felt.

"Should I kill you Harry Potter? Or should I make you feel so much pain that you beg for death first?" Voldemort said in a low and dangerous voice, with his wand held tauntingly. He now wore an evil grin on his pale face.

Harry didn't say anything. He was too scared and in too much pain to even understand what the other was saying.

Voldemort took in Harry's appearance. He noticed how bruised and wounded he was. The only garment of clothes he had on was pants and he looked smaller than you'd imagine a 14 year old boy to look. His messy raven hair flowed across his face, his eyes filled with innocence and fear, streaming with tears from the obvious pain he was in.

Somehow this surprised Voldemort... He was not a man to be left in the dark when it came to knowing things, and he quickly used his legilimency skills to pry into the boys skull. He saw nothing at the forefront of his mind except fear, so he pried even farther, he saw the abuse, the neglect, the days upon days of being locked away.

"_hmm.. ..Interesting.. it seems Dumbledore isn't taking care of his little savior." _Voldemort thought with a smile on his evil face.

Suddenly something happened…. Voldemort didn't desire to kill the boy….yet.

"_After all…" _he thought to himself. "_He is mine now…. To do with as I please. He is small and innocent. How could I have possibly ever feared this boy before? It's strange how I once thought this weak and pathetic boy could ever match my power…."_

His thoughts were interrupted as hurried footsteps could be heard in the distance.

Voldemorts bent down to the trembling boy ,grabbed his wrist sharply with cold, pale hands, and they were gone with a loud *crack*

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Hey, again, I'd really appreciate reviews. I don't really feel motivated to write unless I know people are enjoying it. So I update faster if you do!

-The Author


	4. Thoughts

Harry Potter felt like he was being squeezed through a very small tube at high speed... It was the most unpleasant feeling he had ever experienced because it was coupled with his throbbing scar and his battered and exhausted body. He was also well aware of the large pale hand that was wrapped around his wrist in a death grip.

They both landed on a hard floor, voldemort released the boys wrist instantly and returned to his elegant stance. Harry meanwhile was still crumpled up on the floor, he looked up and their eyes met.

"Please just kill me already…." and he was out.

Voldemort stared at the young boy passed out on the floor of his den. It was strange. Harry Potter had been in his mind practically every second of every day since he first heard of the boy 14 years ago. Every second he was in that forest in Albania, trapped between the living and the dead. Any break from the excruciating pain he was in, he would always be contemplating ways he would torture this boy into oblivion.

At first he wanted to kill Harry out of fear…

That's right, Lord Voldemort was afraid.

Many people believed him to only fear Albus Dumbedore, but no. Lord Voldemort feared only one thing. Death. And this boy threatened his life. He had gone to so many depths to make himself immortal. He had delved so deep into the dark that he could no longer see the light. And that baby had threatened it all. Voldemort felt hesitant to kill the baby, even then. It was not like him to waste a witch or wizard's life, especially the offspring of such an ancient magic family as The Potters. His parents though were no problem to kill, what with them being sided with Dumbledore. But still. He couldn't have risked it. If that boy had grown up to equal his power like the prophesy had said, he would take any precaution against it.

But now…..

Something profound had changed in this dark wizards mind. This boy at his feet was no longer threatening. He realized that Harry Potter was. Simply. Just a baby, 14 years ago…. Why should it have frightened him so?... and he was only an innocent boy that now lay on the floor at present. Everything the boy had done to him since, was all dumbledore's doing. Dumbledore had used this child as a puppet to play off Voldemort's fears.. He remembered seeing the abuse in the boys mind, and seeing how he, himself, had pleaded Dumbledore to let him stay at Hogwarts through the summer. It was almost an exact reenactment. But he made him go back to that retched muggle orphanage..

"_he is mine now..."_ Voldemorts smiled as he imagined Dumbledore's face at hearing the news that his little savior was missing.

"_I can torture him, kill him, do anything I wish now.. he is at my mercy.."_ But something didn't excite him about those things that use too. Before, he'd be elated at imagining the boy screaming in agony at the cruciatus curse.. But now, somehow.. it didn't excite him anymore. He took more enjoyment at the idea of owning the boy.

Possessing him… As if Harry Potter were a rare treasure or artifact that Voldemort had been searching for for so long, yet was only now able to obtain it. And since he no longer feared the rare object, why destroy it?..

Voldemort had been staring at the unconscious boy, deep in thought, for almost 20 minutes. He finally glanced away, and with a flick of his wand a weird little creature appeared before him.

It way about 2 feet tall, very old, and was wearing a black loincloth that looked like it was as old as the creature wearing it. Its eyes were abnormally large, and its ears were reminiscent of a mouse's ears.

"Yes master? " It said at once in a small frightened voice. Its eyes immediately strayed to the young boy on the ground, and the elf noticeably jumped out of shock.

"The boy will be taken care of, in the room opposite the study, and keep him there." Voldemort said in a commanding voice.

The elf, not hesitating for a second, disappeared with the boy with a small *pop*

Voldemort sat down in his chair by the blue fire, and was lost in thought once more. The topic of his thoughts? Harry Potter.

END OF CHAPTER 4

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I don't really like this chapter, but I had to throw in some of what Voldemort was thinking, I'm trying to make the character not too different from the ones in the book. Any suggestions?

-The Author


	5. Obsession

It had been three weeks since Harry Potter had been taken.

Voldemort looked the same in his long black robes, and his dark crimson eyes.

He was currently performing the cruciatus curse on a follower that happened to be there while he was in a bad mood. Which wasn't hard to do, because recently he had been in a very, very bad mood, almost constantly. Why you might ask? Well, Voldemort wasn't a man to be left in the dark. If ever there was something that he didn't understand, which was rare because he was such a gifted wizard, he would easily be able to understand in a short amount of time. But lately there was something that puzzled him beyond even his comprehension. .

He could not get Harry Potter out of his mind.

He ended the screams of his visitor with a small command of "feed" which he said in a strange language. What followed was a blood bath as a giant snake slammed it's oversized fangs into the man over and over again, blood spewing everywhere due to the force of the blows, screams of agony were replaced by a sickening squelching sound.

But back to the subject of Harry Potter…. The red-eyed man was constantly thinking of him. What he's doing, what happened to him, what he is, what he could become, how other people feel about him, how he feels about him, what he's thinking, and the list goes on. Voldemort was the definition of the word, 'Obsessed'.

He hadn't even been able to concentrate on his war.

But the war? What really was he fighting for anymore? At first he was fighting for a better status for wizards and witches. He remembered being in his youth and ranting on and on to his Slytheren house mates about how wizards shouldn't be hidden from muggles. Wizards, especially purebloods, should claim their rightful place in society, at the top. There should be strict rules forbidding muggle and wizard relations, except for slaves or any labor like that. Wizards should not hide from muggles and creatures, as if they were ashamed of their magic, or weren't above the rest.

But Voldemrort knew that these weren't the reasons he started the war. No. Voldemort, for whatever reason, grew to be a cruel young man… He dove into the dark arts head first and did not ever come up for air. When a wizard with so much power lets their magic turn so dark, coupled with an already cruel nature, they emerge basically a sadistic, evil bastard, or in other words, a Dark lord. The war was just an excuse for him to be able to kill and torture without consequence. It was a game, so that he could freely feed his insatiable blood lust. With followers, he would have protection, and be able to kill and torture all his heart desired..

Now after years and years of playing like there was an actual cause that his followers were fighting for, reasons just simply faded away. Now he knew that the people who were on his side, were simply there out of fear, or just similar needs to satiate their own blood lusts.

He liked their fear. It was for a lack of a better word, "fun" for him. To see pathetic excuses for wizards begging for mercy at his feet, knowing that their end is near, and that there's absolutely nothing they can do about it.

The only followers he actually liked were those who didn't fear. Or if they did, they didn't show it. Like Severus…

Voldemort hadn't done anything but sit in his mansion, stare at the fire, torture random death eaters, and think about the boy only one floor above him.

He had not planned any invasions, or murders. He had not so much as summoned upon his death eaters for a meeting.

He hadn't even gone to talk to the boy.. he wanted to figure out why Harry Potter invaded his thoughts so damn much before he would let himself see the boy again, and so far he had found nothing.

"_Maybe I should kill him… would he torture my mind with thoughts even in death?" _but something in his mind didn't like the idea.

Suddenly he jumped up out of rage, _"That damn potter is destroying my thought process with his damn interruptions! WHY?"_ The blue flames in the firepit suddenly got bigger and whipped around dangerously, spitting and hissing.

"I've made up my mind. The boy will have two options_." _He said in a low, and dangerous voice, to the empty room.

And with that the red-eyed man apparated outside the small room opposite the study, the door slammed open without so much as a touch, and he walked in.

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Harry potter awoke to such comfort that he didn't want to open his eyes. He was wrapped in an endless pile of covers and sheets, and his mind never even attempted to think of anything but the bliss that was rest, and being healed. He stayed like this for a good 20 minutes, until he noticed a dull pain in his stomach.

"_ugh. I'm hungry.."_ He groaned as he turned on his side and attempted to open his eyes. He swept his hand over the side of the bed for a few seconds until he realized _"Fucking hell you don't need your glasses stupid git.." _

…then something dawned on him._ "Where am I?" _the gears in his head sped up, attempting to answer this question, his eyes scrunched up in concentration. Everything was flashing through his mind in sequence of events ever since he was at Hogwarts. When he finally got to the end, there was a huge gap. His mind went blank..

"_Ok… I have to be somewhere having to do with Voldemort…he must have taken me somewhere? But where? And why the fuck am I in a bed? And Healed? Was I rescued? Did I imagine that?" _

After a short period of time, he slowly removed the pile of covers from his head. From this action he realized it was very cold in the room he was in, and that he was also not wearing any clothes. As he lifted his head, he scanned the dark room. It was a fairly small room, with no windows and a small opening in it that appeared to be a lavatory. It held a medium sized bed, which he was laying on, in the center, and practically nothing else. It was decorated in very old looking gothic style drapes and bed covers, but it looked immaculately clean. He scanned the room again, and with a confused expression on his face he made out a small "hello…?"

*pop*

A small house elf appeared right at his bedside. It was very small, and looked to Harry like a huge mouse. If it weren't for the loincloth he'd have a hard time realizing it wasn't.

The elf stood in place expectantly. saying nothing

"Who are you? Where am I?" Said Harry, rather quickly.

"Master is in the room across from the study, in the house of the dark Lord, I am Pickwyn, the houses elf" The elf said right away in a monotoned squeaky voice.

Harry's heart sank… So he wasn't rescued. He was a prisoner…

"Does master wish for nourishment?" Said the elf.

"_Fuck…..why not make the best of it? I'm probably going to be tortured and killed any second now anyway."_

"Yes, I'm starving, thank you Pickwyn." He said in a slightly croaky voice.

*pop* The elf was gone, leaving Harry to lay back down, and stare up at the ceiling, feeling like there was a huge brick on his chest.

The days had gone on like that. Everyday, the only thing he would do was eat whatever Pickwyne brought him, and walk around the room. His wounds were all healed, but he was pretty scarred up. The only pain he was in now was a constant headache from his scar hurting. He assumed it was from the close proximity of voldemort. He was able to get sleep with the dreamless sleep potion, and he got a pain-reliever he practically begged the elf for, but even then, Harry felt like he was in hell. There was absolutely no way out. Pickwyne fed him, and made sure he did not escape, and wasn't good for much else. This elf didn't remind him in any way of the other house elfs he had met. Pickwyne was stonefaced, and quiet most of the time, as if all the life had been beaten out of him., Which Harry didn't doubt, seeing as how it was Voldemort's elf..

Everyday Harry would ask himself the same question_.. "Why hasn't he killed me yet? Why hasn't he done ANYTHING at all?.."_

Harry was laying in his bed after just waking up one day. He didn't know what time of day it was, but he imagined it was nighttime. He imagined it was nighttime a lot, since he didn't have windows and it was always dark. He was lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling with blankets pulled up to his chest. He spent a lot of time like this, because the room was always so cold. It seemed like months to him that he'd been there. He wondered if he was going to die there. His eyes suddenly filled with tears. He wasn't sobbing; he was simply staring, as the tears rolled down his face, and sunk into the soft white cotton of the pillow.

Then he heard something. Something from outside the door. He knew it wasn't Pickwyne because his elf always just *popped* by his bedside whenever he would enter the room. No, this was someone else. His heart dropped. In a small amount of time his entire soul seemed to submerge deep into a pit of fear. He glanced at the door quickly, and in a matter of seconds after he had first heard the sound, the door slammed open.

END OF CHAPTER 5


	6. Allegiance

Voldemort slammed the door open without a single touch, his black robes billowing behind him as he elegantly swept through the door and stopped in front of the bed.

Harry immediately jumped up in panic and scrambled out of bed, sheets wrapped around his body in a desperate attempt at dignity.

Voldemort stood towering over him, his wand held high, a fierce look on his white face.

His mouth did not speak the words "avanda kadavera" that Harry had expected though. Instead Voldemort spoke in a deadly serious, and powerful voice.

"Harry Potter... I shall make this short and to the point. I very rarely have mercy for my adversaries... However I am a merciful lord, and I will not spill wizard blood unless it is absolutely necessary. Actions concerning you have made death and punishment obvious. If I did not believe that the majority of your actions were caused by Dumbledore, you would be rotting in the ground right now. That being said I will give you two options. The first, death. The second, a vow of servitude to your lord."

Harry stood, shocked and trembling. His mind numb, except for the fear consuming him. Voldemort's words echoing in his head.

_"Servitude? He's willing to not kill me? I do't understand, how is this possible?" _

The powerful Griffindor lion inside his heart was fading. Ever since he was dropped on the Durseley's door-step, his soul seemed to be fading, deeper and deeper into oblivion. And now, at that moment, there was no courage. No power. No strength. Just fear, and a primal instinct of survival.

Voldemort raised his wand, ready to pronounce the words he knew too well.

"Avandra ka.." ..."Wait!" Said Harry, his heart beating rapidly.

There was silence as Harry tried desperately to say something.

"Wait... I will.. I'm willing to serve you... Just please don't kill me!" He dropped to the ground as he said this, his knees hitting the hard floor with a dull thud.

Voldemort was surprised, yet he did not show it. The last time the boy was faced with death it was met with defiance and courage.

"Very well. You will stay here until I command you otherwise."

Voldemort looked the boy over and couldn't help but notice his lack of clothing. His eyes scanned over his body, everything covered by sheets except for his pale shoulders. His eyes gleamed for an instant, and as quick as he had entered, he was gone from the room.

Harry sat staring at the door for quite some time before crawling back to the bed, a horrible gut wrenching feeling in his heart.

_"What have a done? I just vowed my allegiance to Voldemort? What will the others think. What will he have me do? Will he make me wear those masks? will he make me kill and torture?"_

Harry laid there wondering and wondering what would happen to him. His face scrunched up in a pained expression.

_"but...but I don't HAVE to do those things? What if I can just play along until someone rescues me...Would they even try? Or would they consider me dead by now..."_

Harry Potter fell into a very troubled sleep.

END OF CHAPTER 6


	7. Realization

It was 2AM and Albus Dombledore was pacing.

He had been pacing for hours now, deep in thought, his brow furrowed into a deep crease on his ancient face.

His pacing was finally stopped by a tapping on his office window. He went over and opened the window to a large tan owl who immediately flew over to a nearby table, an envelope tied tightly around her leg. Dombledore went over and untied it gently. He opened the letter to reveal very small and neat handwriting.

**"Professor, I was wondering if you had any more information about Harry. Also I wanted to inform you that me and Ronald are capable, and more than willing to join the rescue mission. I hope you will reconsider your decision."**

**Hermione G."**

Dombledore let out a long sigh. He closed his eyes for a moment as he put down the letter. His face was pale and wrinkled with dark circles hidden beneath his half moon glasses.

_"It's all my fault..._"

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The sun was setting, casting shadows on old gravestones in a small courtyard. Several dark figures stood around a person on the ground in front of them. Looking closer the person seemed to be a young girl, no older than 16. She was screaming in agony, twisting and turning in the dirt.

Harry was standing there, watching from somewhere in the circle. He knew from experience that this poor girl was under the cruciates curse. He longed to help her. He quickly looked around for the one performing the curse, but noticed that none of them had their wands out. None of them, except...him...

Harry Potter bolted upright in bed, cold sweats trailing off of his forehead.

"...No..." He panted, through raspy sobs.

Harry jerked his head left as a loud "Pop" sounded in the corner of the room. A small elf appeared, carrying a tray of food in its hands. The elf brought the tray over, sitting it on Harry's nightstand.

"Not very hungry today Pickwyn.." Harry said to the elf in a hoarse voice.

The elf immediately vanished with the small tray. Harry rolled over, thinking the elf was gone for good. However, the elf came back a few seconds later and stood in front of the bed carrying some kind of cloth in it's hands.

"Harry Potter is to put these on and come with me, sir." Said the elf in it's squeaky little voice, putting the clothes on the bed as he did.

"okay" said Harry reaching for the clothes. But when the elf just stood there staring at him he added "err...could You look away for a moment?"

The elf did as Harry asked with a dull expression on its face.

Harry stumbled out of bed, and put on the set of plain black robes, that turned out to be a perfect fit.

"Where are we going?" Said Harry after he was done.

"Harry Potter is to see the dark lord sir." Said Pickwyn in an anxious voice.

The door swung open and for the first time since he'd been there, Harry walked through it. They walked through a long hallway with a tall ceiling and down a staircase made of marble. The house looked centuries old, but was so clean and well kept that it was still beautiful.

The elf led Harry to a sitting room where a large chair was facing an odd looking fireplace. A tall man sat in the chair with his back towards them.

The elf waved him over and then disappeared with a *pop* looking incredibly frightened.

Harry stood there in silence, waiting for Voldemort to do something.

Voldemort rose from his seat and stood in front of Harry. "Hold out you arm." he said in his low, cold voice.

Harry did as he was told and held out his arm, Voldemort grabbed his wrist tightly with his left hand and slid his sleeve up baring Harry's forearm with his right.

Harry winced at the touch as a sharp pain went to his scar despite the potion.

Voldemort ran his long pale hand slowely up and down the smooth skin, the only blemmish being a faint scar left by Pettigrew just a few months ago. His hand was cold to the touch which created Goosebumps that ran up Harry's arm.

Harry stared at the action with a confused and slightly numb look on his face, wondering what the hell was happening, yet at the same time not really caring.

Voldemort pulled his hand away and a sound like metal being clanged together sounded and a small elaborately engraved dagger appeared in Voldemorts hand. He placed the tip of the dagger on the surface of Harry's arm and tore into the milky white skin, blood dripped down Harry's arm and pooled in the place where Voledmort's hand was gripped painfully around Harry's wrist.

The moment the dagger cut through him, Harry let out a strangled cry of pain, eyes scrunched up in agony.

After a few second Voldemort withdrew the dagger and it disappeared, leaving behind a gash an inch long on Harry's arm.

He felt lightheaded and wanted to fall to the ground but the strong grip on his wrist prevented it.

Harry looked down at his arm and saw the blood spewing out...but then something happened. The blood seemed to stop its slow stream down his arm and then suddenly turned bright emerald green and started moving back towards the gash. It circled around the cut and started creating an outline of something. After a few second the circle clearly took the shape of a skull. Another stream of the emerald blood turned into a beautiful snake that slithered behind the skull and out through its mouth, it looped around a couple times then it suddenly glowed red making Harry scream in pain before the the whole image sunk into Harry's skin, and turned charcoal black.

Voldemort released Harry's wrist allowing him to fall to his knees panting, eyes streaming with tears from the pain.

"This mark is an honor bestowed only on my inner circle of privileged followers. You do not deserve it, however you are given it so that you can be more easily controlled."

Harry was still on his knees, his head bent down, listening silently to what Voldemort was saying.

"You are aware of the effects of this mark?"'

Harry shook his head slightly, still staring at the tile."

"It will create a bond between you and me, only broken in death. When it grows painful, you will touch the mark and voice your lords name in your mind which will transport you to my presence, an action that will not be detected by the ministry of magic."

Harry nodded.

"You will accompany me to the ministry tonight, I require your presence there."

Harry nodded again, a look of confusion running across his face.

"Elf" said Voldemort in his cold voice.

Pickwyne appeared immediately.

"take him away"

Harry got shakily to his feet and followed the elf back to his room, clutching his new tattoo tightly.

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When the boy had gone Voldemort sat down in his favorite chair again.

He was concentrating on his visit to the ministry, thinking of how best to make his way to the prophecy.

But his thoughts kept wondering back to the boy...

His messy raven hair, the soft ivory skin on his arm... He let out an almost silent moan that broke the silence of the room

"_What the hell was that? A moan...did __I __moan?.. How is it that my mind is so easily distracted by the boy, __and his__ appearance __no less__!..._"

He sat there with an uncharacteristically frustrated look on his face. But then the frustration gave way to a flash of realization.

"_Can it be possible that I am taken by the boy?"_

Voldemort had never been taken by anyone to his knowledge. Although when he was a young man he used his good looks and charm to appeal to women he found useful, but his motivation was never out of want or desire, it was purely greed. A manipulative tactic that got him what he wanted. Which was usually a priceless object. It had never occurred to him that he would physically desire another, especially one so young and weak. In fact he never considered that he was even capable of feeling such a thing.

"_Hmm __yes...yes I do want this boy. I want to touch him, to look at him... And why not? If I want something I should have it, I am the greatest wizard there __has ever been__, __there __i__s no reason why __my __desires__ should__n't__ be met."_

His lips had a faint trace of a smile on them as he sat there with thoughts rushing through his mind. His eyes dancing with the reflection of the blue flames he was staring at.

END OF CHAPTER 7

I'd really appreciate reviews, this is the second story I've ever attempted writing and would love some feedback. -Amie


	8. Meanwhile

"_T__his sucks...I'm almost 14 and I can't even go to a friends house!.._" thought Draco as he sat huddled up in the corner of an uncomfortable looking black leather sofa, his arms around his chest. The room he was in was dark, lit only by elegant lamps, the walls lined with ceiling-high book shelves.

"_Father goes wherever he wants, he makes so much money, I should be in Paris right now, having adventures, not spending my whole summer in this boring house reading boring books..." _He thought with his brow furrowed, a nasty look on his handsome, boyish features.

"_and who knows where mother is, she's probably out having tea in some beautiful restaurant in Italy, didn't even bother to ask if I wanted to go.."_

It then occurred to Draco that he really didn't have any idea where his mother was, perhaps she was willing to take him somewhere!

He got up and smoothed out his bleach blond hair (he would never get anywhere with his mother unless he was impeccably groomed) He then sprinted out to the hall where he noticed one of the house elves dusting the various portraits that lined the marble hallway.

"You there, elf!" said Draco in a commanding voice, rushing over to the elf.

"Yes, master Malfoy?" Said the old elf, giving the boy his full attention.

"Where is my mother?" demanded Draco.

"Mrs. Malfoy is in London today, Master. She has gone shopping." said the elf, without hesitation.

"And she didn't even bother to take me along?!" he huffed at the elf, anger on his face.

"Well, where is my father then?" said Draco.

"Upstairs in his chambers Master Malfoy" Said the elf.

Draco immediately started to walk briskly to the staircase.

"But I do believe he does not wish to be disturbed, master Malfoy. I am aware he believes you to be with your mother today" said the elf quickly.

"Do you think I care elf!? He wouldn't be disturbed if someone had informed me she was going somewhere!" He yelled behind him, not bothering to stop.

Draco quickly marched the three stories to his fathers chambers, an angry expression on his face. He halted in front of the door and had his hand up to knock, but he stopped as he suddenly felt something weird.. It was a strange feeling that surrounded the closed door of his parents bedroom. He wasn't new to this feeling and immediately recognized it as a sound blocking charm.

"_Hmmm"_ thought Draco as he put his hand down. "_So father is doing something secretive is he? Probably something to do with the dark lord...why am I never allowed to know information? Does no one care that I have access to all those muggle-lovers the entire time I'm at school? People can be so __thick sometimes..."_

Then an idea popped into Draco's mind.._"but If I just happened to overhear stuff...they'll have no choice but to let me in on __their__ plans..." _

Draco smirked at his seemingly genius idea. He then dug the key from his pocket that he carried with him everywhere. It was a magical key that he had stolen from his fathers desk drawer years ago that opened any locked door in their Manor.

Lifting the key to the door, he didn't bother to be quiet about cracking the door open, because he knew that the silence charm worked both ways. He slowly leaned his head through the door until it was pass the charm, and peered into the room. It was slightly dark, lit only by red candles that adorned most of the surfaces.

He stood there for several moments, not able to comprehend the scene before him. When reality finally sunk in, and his mind sped up, his heart dropped, a feeling that he had never felt before. His breathe hitched as his young eyes darted between the tall blond man he knew as his father, to the young red-head he had never seen before Their naked bodies glistened with a layer of sweat as his father aggressively thrusted his hips into her body, her face being buried deeper into the tangled blankets with every hard shove to her backside. Her long, curly red hair accentuated by the faint candlelight, the only noise was the slapping of sweaty naked skin and the muffled grunts of the young woman, neither of them aware of their new audience.

Draco stared at the scene, his eyes seemingly glued to their bodies.

Finally he closed the door slowly, unable to look any longer. He ran as fast as he could back to the sitting room, a blank expression on his face. When he got there it seemed his emotions finally caught up with him. His face scrunched up with anger and betrayal, his body shook as the images he just witnessed seemed to burn into his very skull. Angry tears ran down his face as he picked up the closest object and threw it as hard as he could against the wall. The vase shattered across the hard wood floors and he stared down at it, three words going through his mind over and over. _"I hate him. I hate him! I HATE him!"_

He sat on the sofa with a calm expression on his face for what seemed like hours. He sat there as the house elf cleaned up the vase, he sat there as his mother got home and showed him the new dress robes she had gotten for him. He sat there until later that evening when his father walked into the room.

"Draco, son, your mother tells me you're acting odd, what's the matter? " his father said in his low drawling voice, looking at his son with what was perhaps, to him, a caring expression.

"Nothing, father" said Draco in a low, expressionless voice, not looking up.

"Well, perhaps your mother is just a bit too concerned these days"

"Yes" replied Draco, quiet anger boiling inside him at the mention of his mother.

His father stood by one of the tall bookshelves, studying one of the older looking books with his pale fingers. "You know, Draco" He finally said. "The dark lord considers me one of his closest allies, he trusts me with information that he rarely relays to others"

He looked at his son, who didn't look back. "And..." He continued. "as you are my son, I feel it my privilege to inform you of such information, because one day my place with the Dark Lord will be passed onto you, Draco" he then placed a hand on Draco's shoulders, not noticing the hate in his son's eyes.

"I know you have been feeling left out these past few weeks, so I'll give you some rather interesting news... The Dark lord has captured Harry Potter."

Draco looked up at the news in shock, he had assumed that Potter was unattainable because of Dumbledore.

"So Potters dead?" Draco blurted out.

"Actually no, Draco... Don't misunderstand though, he will be by tomorrow, the Dark Lord simply needs him to collect a prophecy at the ministry tonight, but afterwards I am sure there can be of no further use for him." said his father.

"You know, Draco, I am so very proud to know that you will one day take my place." He finished, walking towards the door. "Perhaps I shall take you traveling with me tomorrow hmm?" Draco nodded slightly,

"Goodnight, son." and he was left alone.

"_I hate him, the goddamn bastard.." _Draco thought bitterly with clinched teeth.

"_Who the fuck does he think he is, talking about my mother after what he's done. He thinks I'm just going to blindly follow in his footsteps? he thinks I'm just going to do whatever he asks of me?...I don't even __hate__ Potter, he is a__n__ idiotic, attention seeking git, __but thats no different tha__n __all the __other__ Griffindores __... I wonder what the Dark Lord would unleash if Potter escaped because of him."_

Draco suddenly knew what he was going to do. He got up, walked to his room, took out some parchment and a quill and started to write.

Only one thought in his mind the entire time...

"_He deserves it"_

_**Dumbledore. You don't know who I am, but I have information that could save Potter. Go to the Ministry of Magic tonight, and look for the prophecy. **_

He rolled the parchment up and tied it to his owl... it wasn't til later that night that he realized what the implications of his actions might be.

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"You've gotten so old, Albus." Said a young man, no older than 17. His blond hair grown charmingly around his perfect, handsome face.

Albus nervously touched the end of his long silver beard at these words, a slight blush spreading across his face.

"No, not the silver, I always knew you'd have silver hair... I mean your personality, your mind"

"Oh?" Said Albus in almost a shy voice.

"Yes Albus, you don't remember, do you?" Said the young man, his eyes gleaming, his eyebrows scrunched up in sadness, looking down at the older man with such a piercing gaze, he seemed to be looking right through him.

"Remember what?" Asked Albus, confusion running through his mind.

"How it feels to be young, Albus. How it feels to be in-love... Why did you get so old? I never thought you would..."said the boy, concern consuming his features as he lifted his hand to the older man's cheek.

Albus reached up to touch the soft hand, so lovingly cupped around his face... but he felt nothing.

"What is it, Albus?" Said the blond boy, concern in his silver eyes.

Albus looked down, what exactly was it? After some time thinking, he finally realized what it was. Guilt.

"Harry...it's Harry...I've ruined his life, my actions are killing him slowly, why can't I just make it okay? Am I not good enough? Am I not powerful enough that I have to rely on a 14 year old boy for things that he never deserved?" He looked into the blond boys eyes with anguish, searching for some answer to his guilt, some solution that would make it all okay.

"Albus, remember what I always told you?...People do bad things, people choose evil. But no one. ...No one is ever purely evil. No matter what happens to them, no matter what changes they go through, no matter what atrocities they commit, they are still human. Everybody. Whatever you go through in life, you're still you."

"I don't understand." Said Albus, his eyes glistening with tears. Trying to decipher some meaning from the words that might help him relieve his guilt.

The boy took his hand away, and looked sadly towards what seemed to be a small village in the distance.

"You will" He said, in a low, peaceful sort of voice, almost a whisper.

Albus reached out to touch the boys shoulder, but felt nothing. The area where his hand touched seemed to fade, he was disappearing...

"Wait!" Shouted Albus, but he had already gone.

Dumbledore awoke with a jolt from his chair. Wiping away the tears from his sleep-deprived eyes, he roughly massaged his sore neck.

He walked over to his window, it was night, the sky a beautiful shade of dark blue. He opened the window to a handsome looking owl, and retrieved an unmarked letter attached to its leg..

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If this chapter doesn't make sense to anyone, please tell me! Reviews are much appreciated :P


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